The Downside of Being A Cat Person
by LoveIsATemple
Summary: Thanks to her cat Snowball, Caroline will never write an Angry Email ever again. (AU/AH, M for smut)
1. Nobody Likes You, Everyone Left You

**A/N** : So, this is a two-shot Klaroline story I've been writing for the past week or so. The second part is done, so expect that tomorrow morning. Early, as I'm leaving for a week as soon as I get the last part updated.

This is rated M, but only the second part has any smut in it.

In case it confuses you, the woman who plays Esther in both shows is Alice Evans, hence the last name in this, and the actor who portrays Mikael is Sebastian Roché, hence his _first_ name in this. **Two people have said it, and that's enough for me: Klaus's surname is spelled Mi _ch_ aelson on purpose. Don't worry, I know it's "actually" Mi _k_ aelson. **

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. (Titles for Part One and Part Two come from the Green Day songs "Homecoming" and "Give Me Novacaine" respectively.)**

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Part One: Nobody Likes You, Everyone Left You**

A long, long time ago when Caroline was a little girl with bigs hopes and dreams, when the world was still fresh and open and good and she had no idea that things rarely turned out the way you wanted them to, she wanted to grow up and be a teacher.

Like the control freak she was, she made her parents buy her every authentic teacher play toy she could find. Every single one, whether it be a proper white board/chalk board combo with real, good quality dry erase markers in funky colours and chalk that didn't crumble upon first contact with the board, or a fun book of curriculum she wasn't entirely sure was meant for young children of 6.

Caroline played endlessly with her teacher toolset, dressing up her stuffed animals in uniforms and sitting them in front of her, making them listen to her go on and on about things she was sure teachers talked about. Like ice cream and the swimming pool and Saturday morning cartoons. Sometimes she even got her mother and father in on it, making them put on fancy clothes and come to her "classroom," which was really just the cleared out shed her parents never used.

Her obsession with teaching carried on throughout her own education. In elementary school she got in trouble a few times for standing in front of the class and pretending to teach them when the actual teacher was out of the room. When she graduated into junior high and boys became much more interesting than they previously had been, Caroline calmed her neurotic ways and strayed from her teaching dreams, choosing to focus more on guys like Stefan Salvatore.

But when high school rolled around, and she discovered she had a voice that was all her own and that people should have been listening to what she had to say, Caroline picked right back up where she left off. She would argue with the teachers, making her point by raising her voice until the teacher sent her to the principle's office.

It felt good to have people listening to her. So when applying to universities came around and Caroline got accepted to all of them, she decided to go to William and Mary and double major in education and childhood development. There, she flourished. Nobody could send her to the principle anymore. She was _heard_. And it was hard not to get addicted to that.

Boys were once again put on the back burner except for the occasional fling, and those never ended very well, and they stopped once she hit her second year. Caroline Forbes was focused on getting her degree. Which she did, one year early.

Feeling slightly empty with just a bachelor's degree, Caroline applied to grad school in Washington DC, and to absolutely no one's surprise she got accepted. For the next two years she worked hard to get her master's, even overseeing a class for one year as a T.A. She was almost there. She had almost accomplished her dream.

But then her father died, and Caroline's mother suddenly needed someone to take care of her.

Caroline dropped out of school, one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. She moved back home to Mystic Falls, Virginia, back into her old house which now seemed to be so much colder without the warm light of her dad.

Desperate for work, she tried to get teaching positions near her home. She tried so hard. She was fluent in Spanish and thought she could teach at an ESL school, but nobody would take her. She was too young, or not experienced enough. She was too sad.

Seven months after her dad passed away, Caroline's mother, Elizabeth, mentioned there was a job opening up in Richmond. It wasn't a teaching job, in fact it was nothing more than a glorified receptionist position, but it was something. And Caroline needed something. They weren't poor, but her father had never been rich, and they were finding it difficult to budget on the small amount of money he left them in his will.

The job, Caroline found out later, was at a publishing company. One of the best in the United States. This suited Caroline, for she was rarely ever caught without a book. Reading was her indulgence. Forget chocolates or the Internet or television. She read all books, never discriminating against a genre or an author. Never caring about the target audience, whether it was teens or five-year-olds.

Being a receptionist—an _administrative assistant_ —was not in her plan. The job had never even been on her radar. But for her mother she went into the interview with her head held high, pretending as if being someone who picked up phones was all she had ever wanted to be.

They bought it. The next week she got a call saying she had the job. By the next she was out shopping for pencil skirts and modest blouses. Hair ties and bobby pins for her blond hair so she could look professional while also giving herself a massive headache. And the week after that she was being shown around Original Publishers' headquarters.

She worked on the twentieth floor of a twenty floor building. Surrounding her were the offices of the people in charge. The people with power. She was essentially only responsible for making sure people stayed off of the floor unless they were meant to be there, and grabbing lunch for the assistants and occasionally using the copier, but she pretended she had more to do than that when her mother asked.

Caroline's desk was right outside the elevators. Those silver doors with the company's name splattered across it in red and black lettering opened and whoever happened to be inside were treated to the sight of Caroline working hard. Directly in front of her were all of the offices belonging to the top dogs of the company, and right at the end was the biggest one of them all: the office inhabited by Klaus Michaelson, CEO.

Klaus Michaelson was the son of the extremely famous English author Esther Evans, who was best known for her self-help books, and the famous businessman Sebastian Michaelson, best known for starting Original Publishers.

Yes, the big boss man was the sole child of the owner of the company. This meant many things, but most people working at headquarters focused primarily on how his heritage effected his manners. Putting it simply, he was not an easy man to get along with. Even the board he answered to had their issues with him.

He was stubborn, cold, and manipulative. Could charm the pants off any woman in the room just to get what he wanted. Made you feel special, then tore you down. He expected everyone to bow down to him, to see him as their king. And the worst thing? He didn't even like books, a fact he openly shared when he made it clear the only reason he had taken the job in the first place was because his father would disinherit him if he didn't.

It didn't mean much in the end, his horrific attitude toward everyone in the headquarters building. He was amazing at his job. Caroline heard that he got this way due to his father's excessive berating. Most of the women she had met in the office since her first day thought that was sad, but they were still terrified of him. Even if they wanted to sleep with him.

Caroline knew the CEO of any company had a lot riding on their shoulders. They were responsible for almost everything that happened inside the company, and most didn't know what the hell they were doing. Hence why so many companies crumbled. On a certain level, it was understandable why Klaus Michaelson was so difficult, so mean, but mostly he just came across as a rich jackass with an overly enthusiastic sex drive.

Everybody within Original Publishers knew of their CEO's love for the female body. His office, according to those who had been inside of it, was covered in fancy busts of nude women. The walls were coated in paintings depicting naked women half-covering themselves with sheets.

Bonnie, his personal secretary and Caroline's best friend, told her collecting works like that were a hobby, not a weird obsession with naked chicks. According to Bonnie he had attended art school before his parents forced him to go to a university that actually had a business school. And then they forced him into the program.

Caroline's first encounter with the infamous Klaus Michaelson was not an experience she willingly thought about. It had been her first day without her trainer, Jenna, and she was already somewhat lost. Apparently picking up phones was a lot harder than it looked.

She had been working hard all day making sure everyone got what they needed and were happy. Jenna had told her not to be intimidated by the people she catered to. They were all extremely smart and very focused, which could make them come off as assholes. If something didn't go their way they would not hesitate to raise their voice. Caroline, like most other people, grew slightly more terrified of screwing up after hearing that.

Three hours into the morning, a call came through asking to speak to Klaus Michaelson. Caroline had dutifully checked to see if he had sent any notes regarding his availability (unlike the other higher ups, Klaus Michaelson never went out of his way to tell her personally), and whether certain calls were meant to go straight through to him, or through to Bonnie. Seeing he was busy all day with arduous meetings, Caroline had politely told the man on the phone that Mr. Michaelson was not available for a call at the moment, but could he please leave a message so she could make sure Mr. Michaelson got back to him as soon as possible.

This turned out to be a bad decision. The man on the phone was evidently some big agent in the process of trying to get some big author's book published. It made sense to her now that when asked for a message he responded by asking her to tell Mr. Michaelson that he would be sorry for not taking the call.

Caroline knew nothing of the seriousness of the matter until the man in question was finished with his meetings. She had tacked to Bonnie's desk the message the man had left, not thinking any more of it. Until, of course, Klaus Michaelson stormed out of his office, dark blond curls bouncing, and headed straight in her direction.

Something she found out after the ordeal was the moment Klaus stepped out of his office, it was protocol to pretend you didn't exist. You kept your eyes down and looked busy. You did not, under any circumstances, draw attention to yourself. Because he was constantly in a bad mood, and he was constantly out for blood.

Being who she was, and that was always cheerful, even when she wasn't really feeling it, Caroline smiled at the clearly upset and fuming Mr. Michaelson, ready to ask if he needed anything. She had opened her mouth, the words already starting to fall, when he interrupted her. Loudly. In front of everybody on the twentieth floor.

It was the first time she'd ever seen the man outside of his see-through office. He was slightly taller than her 5 ft. 7 in. self, but seemed to be able to make himself appear much, much larger. He reminded her of a puffer fish, expanding in strange places when threatened in order to scare off potential predators.

"Bloody fucking _hell_. That was a FUCKING IMPORTANT CALL! Why was I not notified?" he shouted, baring his shiny white teeth. She wondered how much it cost to get that shade of pearl.

Caroline cleared her throat, her nerves running haywire. This was not in the employee handbook. It should have been. _Chapter 511, How To Deal With Your Asshole Of A Boss When He Is Yelling At You So You Don't End Up Crying In Front of All Of Your Coworkers_.

"Mr. Michaelson," she began meekly, trying her best to look him directly in his sea foam blue eyes. They were hard as rock. Cruel. He could kill her with that stare if he had half a mind to do such a thing. "You wrote in your email to me this morning that you should not, under any circumstances, be disturbed as you had extremely important meetings all day."

Klaus Michaelson slammed his open hands on her the top of her desk, a loud slapping sound resonating throughout the entire office which had grown quiet the second the boss had exited his office. "I should fire you," he growled.

Caroline gasped, fear clouding her vision. He couldn't fire her. Not yet.

Klaus closed his eyes for a brief moment, looking to be in deep thought. When he opened them, they had lost none of their hardness, but he seemed somehow calmer. "But I really don't want to deal with the paper work. It was hard enough replacing Jenna," he said through his clenched teeth, which she was sure were about ready to crack. Pointing a finger at her, Klaus leaned in close enough that she could see a faint scar on the bridge of his nose. "Screw up one more time, Miss Forbes," he warned, and the way he said her name, last name or not, sent tremor after tremor down her spine until her whole body tingled, "and I will throw you onto the streets without thinking twice. _Always_ forward my calls to my personal secretary."

At that, the scary CEO pushed himself off of her desk and walked briskly back into his office, banging his door shut behind him.

The shouting was minimal, the encounter fleeting, but Caroline Forbes made up her mind to never, ever, ever make any mistakes ever again.

Everyone in the office slunk back to their desks after the door to Klaus's office shut, except for one person. A girl around her age, maybe slightly older, came up to her with a small smile on her cute face. She had tan skin and blazing green eyes and she seemed to radiate kindness.

"Are you okay?" she asked, resting her hip against Caroline's desk.

Caroline moved to run her hands through her hair, but stopped herself when she remembered it was tied up in a tight bun. She nodded. "I think so," she sighed, looking up at the woman. She was dressed similarly to Caroline, except her pencil skirt was a dark pink whereas Caroline's was a pale blue. Their white blouses were matching, though, Caroline noticed. "That was really scary. I definitely thought I was out of a job after only a day."

The woman laughed airily. "His bark is bigger than his bite. I've been working for him since he became the CEO of this place, and trust me when I say all that anger is just his very thoroughly constructed wall."

"And I can only imagine nobody will ever be able to knock it down."

"Maybe not, but I haven't given up on him yet. He's scary, I'll admit, but you'll get used to that."

"Great," Caroline said sarcastically. "That makes me feel better."

The woman stepped in front of Caroline and flashed her another warm smile. "I'm Bonnie, by the way," she said, holding out her hand. Caroline quickly took it. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Bonnie. Caroline Forbes."

"I know," Bonnie whispered. "I'm the one who convinced Klaus to hire you."

Bonnie didn't let Caroline reply before she started walking back to her desk.

It wasn't such a bad day, she realised when she got home later that evening. She may have gotten on the bad side of her boss, but she met the woman who would turn out to be her best friend.

 _And_ it was the day she decided she needed therapy, but that wasn't important.

* * *

Klaus Michaelson had been in a foul mood all day. Well, he was in a foul mood every day, but this was apparently one of his Extra Foul Moods. Everyone at the office knew it, and everyone was doing their best to stay out of his way. Something about a deal with an author falling through. A rarity, but when it happened it was common knowledge that you steered clear of the boss man.

Caroline was sitting at her desk, sorting through some paperwork, readying herself to go home, when the door to Klaus's office swung open. She braced herself for a crash, but remembered they had door stoppers put in after one particularly bad day when Klaus managed to open his door so harshly it put a hole through the wall. All she heard was the door bouncing off of the rubber stopper.

She knew he was walking down the wide hallway in her direction. His shiny designer shoes clacked against the floor, growing louder and louder and louder. Most everybody else had already left, including Bonnie who was gearing up to have a baby and had special privileges which allowed her to go home early.

Caroline didn't _have_ to stay until everyone else left the office, but after three years of working at the front desk on the twentieth floor she knew it was expected of her. After the first few times she left before Klaus, he had sent her a rather aggressive email asking—okay, it was more like _demanding_ —her to stick around and go home when he did. This request—or order, whichever way you wanted to look at it—became more and more relevant the earlier Bonnie went home. Without his personal secretary screening all of his calls and emails, he wordlessly put Caroline in charge of all of that. She did the work willingly, if only to stay on his good side, but she had gone to bed early all of her life, and staying up past nine thirty never did her any favours.

Because they typically left the office at the same time, sharing elevator rides and heading to the garage with him walking creepily behind her as if he were her guardian angel, Caroline didn't find it odd that he was heading her way. Klaus's office was see-through, she always knew when he was readying himself to leave for the night. He had this ritual where he filed all of his paperwork and organised his desk right before he walked out. She had already texted her mother to say she was on her way home.

But she should have known something was off. Especially when she considered how bad of a day he had apparently been having.

Snapping her messenger bag shut, Caroline stood just as Klaus reached her desk. They normally didn't spoke during their walks together (most of their conversations were over the phone and were always work-related), so she was rather surprised when he opened his mouth as soon as their eyes met.

She didn't stay surprised for long. Anger flickered behind his skin, his normally pale cheeks were reddened with fury. His eyebrows looked as though they were trying to glue themselves together, and the skin above his nose was wrinkled and strained. He yelled at her only three or four times a year, but the first time it had happened had been such a horrific experience that Klaus's I'm-About-To-Yell-At-You face had been burned into her mind.

Caroline braced herself for impact.

"Miss Forbes, are you aware of what happened today?" he asked in his booming, British accent.

Knowing protocol, Caroline nodded her head gently. Her gut was urging her to shout back, but she refrained.

"And are you aware that Mrs. Parker left before the events of this afternoon?"

Yes, she knew Bonnie had gone home before Klaus got the call about the author. She had been the one to send the guy's agent straight through to Klaus while he was in a meeting.

"Then you know that I did _not_ get my coffee after my four o'clock meeting," he said, his brows moving closer and closer together. If he wasn't careful they were going to get stuck like that.

"Yes, sir," she yielded, not actually having any clue what he was talking about. Bonnie had said nothing about doing the jobs of the lazy intern, Damon, they had floating around their floor. He had gone home three hours ago. One hour before he was meant to.

"And do you KNOW that I CANNOT FUCKING FUNCTION without my five o'clock coffee?" he roared. "And do you know that IF I HAD BEEN GIVEN MY DRINK WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO, WE WOULD NOT HAVE FUCKING LOST THIS FUCKING AUTHOR?"

Great, he was swearing now. That never ended well.

Caroline quickly gathered that Mr. Klaus Michaelson, CEO, sir was trying to blame her for the deal falling through, and was doing her best not to have a panic attack in front of him. She was a strong woman, but when people yelled at her for things she hadn't done, she felt like a squished bug. All of her the air fell from her lungs. She became two-dimensional.

"I SHOULD HAVE FIRED YOU AGES AGO. YOU'RE INCOMPETENT, YOU'RE RUDE, AND YOU ACT LIKE YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE. I AM SICK OF YOUR LAZY WORKMANSHIP!"

And with that, he turned and stormed off. He didn't even bother taking the elevator. He headed right for the door to the stairs, leaving Caroline standing awkwardly at her desk, holding desperately to the tears trying to leak out of her eyes. The two other workers still at the office had grown silent during the shouting, but now that Klaus had left were busying themselves with paperwork.

Caroline carefully picked up her messenger bag, smoothed her skirt, and wiped beneath her eyes with her thumbs, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself before she got on the road.

 **.1.**

By the time she got home and headed for her bedroom, Caroline was mad. Beyond mad—she was _livid_. Never in all her years had she been so royally pissed off. Her mother was asleep, so she couldn't rant to her, and Bonnie was pregnant and didn't need any extra stress.

How dare he blame her for something that was clearly not her fault? She knew he did it often, put the blame on completely innocent people. It was just something he did. Because he was the boss and you couldn't argue with him. People who did often found themselves without jobs by the end of the day.

Caroline thought about calling her therapist, Dr. Saltzman, but though he was kind enough, she'd never called him at such a late hour. Instead of phoning him, Caroline recalled something he had told her to do whenever she was particularly angry at someone and didn't want the anger to make her do something stupid.

Sitting on her bed, Caroline grabbed her laptop and opened her personal email, clicking on the _Compose_ _Message_ icon at the top of the window, and started writing.

 _Dear Mr. Michaelson,_

 _You are, simply put, an asshole. A jackass. A fuckboy who doesn't understand that the whole fucking world doesn't revolve around him. I clearly had_ nothing _to do with you losing that deal with the author. It wasn't at all fair of you to shout at me. I get that I was the only one there you could even slightly blame for the problem, but maybe your lack of your social skills was what made the author turn you down. Did you think about that? No, probably not, because you have this strange idea that everybody should bow down to you simply because your daddy owns the company._

 _I have worked for you for three years. The only fucking reason I haven't quit is because every time I try to get a job in the field I want, they fucking turn me down. You may have only yelled at me a small number of times in those three years, but you are such an asshole that it makes up for all the days you don't utter a single word to me._

 _You expect people to do what you want without even telling them! You expect them to understand what it means when you blink three times in succession, and then get fucking pissed when they don't fucking get it! I wish I could quit, but unfortunately you pay me too well for that to be something I would consider doing._

 _So, you suck. You can go die now. Thank you very much for being the absolute worst boss in existence._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Caroline Forbes_

Out of force of habit, Caroline dragged the mouse over the _Send_ button, but quickly took her hand off of her laptop's trackpad when she realised what she was doing.

"That was close," she whispered to herself, pushing the laptop off her knees.

Something jumped on the bed, startling the blond girl. Looking at the end of her bed, Caroline saw her Diamond Eye cat, Snowball, kneading the covers. Caroline clicked her tongue, and Snowball bounded over to her.

"Good kitty," she murmured, scratching Snowball's chin to the sound of soft purrs.

Caroline felt better. The therapeutic Angry Email, as Dr. Saltzman called it, and her cat managed to quell the fire charring her insides.

She had gotten Snowball after work one day after finding the white kitten limping at the side of the road. When Caroline took her to the vet they found no chip and she had yet to be spayed, meaning she was most likely a stray. With the thumbs up from her mother, Caroline brought the kitten home that night.

Snowball was a sweet cat. The vet put her at roughly three months when Caroline brought her in, and that had been two and a half years ago. She was still very much a kitten, but she was very friendly and was good at not tearing up Caroline's things.

Snowball grew tired of Caroline's attention and started walking around her, rubbing her fur over Caroline's body, a sign she wanted food.

"You hungry, girl?" Caroline asked as Snowball weaved behind her back.

Snowball stepped out from behind Caroline just as she was getting up to feed her, causing Snowball to skittishly jump to the left. The cat landed right on the laptop. Caroline started laughing, but quickly stopped when a loud _ping_ echoed around the room.

* * *

 **A/N** : What do you think? Feel free to tell me. Unless it's rude, then I'd rather you say nothing.

Fun Fact: Snowball is the name Margaret Gilbert gives the white kitten she finds (who's really Katerina von Swartzchild) in The Vampire Diaries books. Thought it was fitting.

Until tomorrow,

LoveIsATemple


	2. This Sensation Is Overwhelming

**A/N:** Thank you to those who reviewed and favourited and followed, and to those who just plain read the story! I hope you like the last part. It's definitely more M-rated than the first.

* * *

 **Part Two: This Sensation Is Overwhelming**

"Shit," Caroline breathed, pacing in her bedroom. Her phone was pressed harshly against her cheek, ringing in her ear.

"Caroline?" Bonnie's tired, crackly voice came through the receiver.

"Bonnie!" Caroline squeaked, not caring that she just woke up her eight-months-pregnant friend. "I just sent an email to Klaus!"

"So? I do that all the time. It's kind of my job."

"Ugh, no!" Caroline bit at her nails. "No, you don't understand. I sent him—look, my therapist taught me about this exercise for when I'm feeling really mad at someone, it involves writing a really strongly worded email to them, and I wrote one to Klaus because he yelled at me before he left work tonight, and then I almost sent it, but I didn't because I remembered I wasn't supposed to, because, you know, I don't really want to lose my job, but then Snowball jumped on the bed and stepped on my laptop, and she sent the email, and now I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do. Bonnie please help me!"

Caroline took in a much-needed breath, her vision whiting out for a moment. Her pacing was becoming more and more manic as the seconds ticked by. What if he fired her over this? She would understand if he did. If her employee sent her something like that, they would definitely get the boot. And it's not like Klaus even liked her that much anyway. This would just be the final nail in her extremely nail-filled coffin.

"Wait, you sent him an email full of hate by accident?" Bonnie checked, her voice clearer than before. Caroline's one-breath cry for help must have woken her up.

Caroline paced faster. "I didn't send it! Snowball did."

"That's not a good excuse. Unless you can somehow prove Snowball wrote the email," Bonnie mocked playfully.

"Not the time for jokes, Bon. Tell me what to do!"

Bonnie sighed. "There's not much I can do, Care. Nor is there anything you can do. You just have to wait and see what happens. He'll either respond right away, ask about it in the morning, or ignore it. I'm sure he gets those kinds of emails a lot."

"Yeah, and I'm sure the people who send them all get _fired_! I can't get fired, Bonnie. My mom and I need this money. And as much as I dislike Klaus, he pays me really freaking well."

Laughing, Bonnie said, "Don't be the one to bring it up. Go into work tomorrow and pretend nothing happened. Act normal, do your job, and wait it out. I know you're not a patient person, but there's nothing else to do."

Caroline stopped her pacing and sat down on her bed. Snowball came up to her, pawing at her leg as if to say sorry. Never one to stay mad at animals for long, Caroline smoothed Snowball's sleek fur, her way of saying it was okay.

"Okay, I'll try my best to leave it alone," Caroline decided, weariness slamming into her. It was almost eleven at night, way past her bedtime.

"Good," Bonnie said. She sounded proud of herself. "Alright, I gotta get to bed. Kai's staring at me disapprovingly."

Caroline got off her bed and walked to her en suite so she could get ready for bed. "'Night, Bon. Thanks for you help."

"I'm happy to be of service," she replied smugly.

Caroline hung up first, putting her phone on the counter in her bathroom, and got out a makeup wipe. She stared at herself in the mirror, at her tired eyes and wrinkled forehead. She was old beyond her years already, and this screw up was not helping her skin out at all.

* * *

"Goodnight, Caroline!"

Caroline looked up from her desk fast, worried it was Klaus walking by, but smiled instantly when she spotted Pearl moving toward the elevators. "Goodnight, Pearl. I'll see you on Monday," Caroline said as cheerfully as she could muster.

Pearl nodded, smiling back at her, and stepped inside the elevator.

It was eight o'clock in the evening the day after Snowball sent her Angry Email to Klaus. Luckily, it was Friday, which meant everyone was going home earlier than usual. Pearl was the last one left besides her and Klaus. She had thought about bolting early to save herself, but decided that was the cowards way out, and though she was well known as a coward, she didn't want to be one tonight.

Caroline peaked through Klaus's see-through door and spotted him stacking papers on his desk, a sign he was almost ready to head out. She had heeded Bonnie's advice and pretended as though nothing was wrong. She arrived twenty minutes before Klaus, nervous as anything and shaking like a leaf. When he showed up she may have almost vomited on her desk, she was so scared. But he walked right past her and hadn't acknowledged her existence all day.

She couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

She was leaning more toward bad.

Caroline didn't realise she was still staring at Klaus until he poked his head out of his office door. She blinked and looked down, but brought her head right back up when he addressed her.

"Could you come in here for a moment, Miss Forbes?"

Caroline's body went numb. She nodded and stood, mind blank. Klaus stepped out of her way when she reached his office, shutting the door behind her with a loud click. She jumped, but tried to shake it off as if she were cold, rubbing her hands over her arms. Which made no sense, she decided, as it was the middle of summer in southern Virginia.

God, she was so bad under pressure.

Klaus walked around her and leaned back against his desk, bracing his hands either side of his hips on his glass desktop. He didn't smile. He did nothing but stare at her, much the same way she had been staring at him earlier.

Clearing her throat, Caroline bounced on her feet, growing increasingly uncomfortable the more time passed without a word being spoken. Too bad she was too nervous to say anything first.

"Do you know why I called you in here?" Klaus asked after a few minutes, crossing his arms under his chest. His designer suit tightened over his muscles.

Caroline's mouth went dry as she struggled to find something to say to defend herself. "I—uh," she stammered, her brain deciding it did not want to work properly. "The copier? I know it's jammed, but I didn't do it."

It was a lame cover. She knew it wasn't going to sound believable the second the words left her mouth, but she was desperate.

For the first time since she'd met the man, Klaus Michaelson actually laughed. Admittedly, it was humourless and a little condescending, but the sound still shocked her. "No, I think you know I'm talking about the email." He had grown serious again, transforming himself back into Scary Boss Man, but she swore she could see something playful stretching his lips to one side.

Caroline's entire body tensed, playfulness detected or not. It was what she did when she was being confronted. And it was to be expected in this situation, considering she might be out of a job by the end of the night. By the end of the minute.

Deciding to save herself a long, tortuous starting competition with Klaus over the email, Caroline sucked in a deep breath and came clean, "I'm so sorry, sir. Really, really sorry. I go to therapy, not that that's important or anything, but he, my therapist, Dr. Saltzman—you'd probably get along with him, he was a CEO before he decided the job was slowly sucking his soul from his chest, sorry that's not relevant—anyway, he told me about this therapeutic exercise for when someone pisses you off where you write them an email telling them off and whatnot, but delete it immediately afterward to clear your mind, and so that's what I did. I wrote you a really angry email, and I was going to delete it, but my cat, Snowball, she's this Diamond Eye cat—well, the actual name for her breed is Khao Manee, which means _white gem_ , but again, this isn't relevant . . ."

Caroline, who had kept her head down during her longwinded speech full of unimportant, random facts about things Klaus Michaelson probably had no desire to know, stuttered when she noticed her boss extracting himself from his desk and stepping dangerously close to her. Keeping her head down, Caroline lifted her blue eyes. Klaus was right in front of her, so close she could see that scar again on his nose.

For some unnamable reason her fingers burned to touch it.

No man had been this close to her in over a year. Dating with this job proved very difficult. Most people on the twentieth floor were either married or too much of an a-hole, and she rarely travelled downstairs. And Caroline worked so damn much, and spent time with her mother and Bonnie on her time off, that finding men outside of the office was near impossible. She hadn't had a steady boyfriend since high school. Casual sex wasn't her thing—she was too quick to get attached.

So this, having Klaus Michaelson, definitely the hottest man in existence (which he definitely _was_ , even if she had never allowed herself to think such a thing, even if he was still the assholiest of assholes), so very close to her heated her blood to a previously-unknown temperature. Her skin prickled, fire sweeping through her veins until her whole body felt as though it was about to burst.

"Are you afraid of me?" he murmured, startling Caroline so much she actually jumped.

"I—um—" Caroline struggled to come up with anything to say. He was so _close to her_. She couldn't think straight.

What was happening to her?

She hated this man. Definitely, one-hundred percent hated him.

But her body was telling her a completely different story. As was her brain, which had so kindly decided to turn off and stop giving her real words to say.

Caroline managed to move her legs in desperation, and she stepped backward only to run into one of the chairs in front of Klaus's desk.

This attempt at escape was turning out wonderfully.

"I don't think you're afraid of _me_ ," he said, answering his own question. He had moved with her, his breath, which smelled like cinnamon gum, she noted with a silent whimper, skated across her skin in welcome flurries. "I think you're afraid of how I make you feel."

Caroline wanted to somehow argue with him, but she didn't know what he meant. And it wasn't like she could conjure up any sentences that would make sense.

"You're afraid," Klaus proceeded, eyes alight with pleasure, "of how _angry_ I make you. Isn't that right, love?"

Caroline said nothing. She couldn't. Her tongue felt like it had been replaced with sandpaper. Extra dry, extra sandy sandpaper.

She knew Klaus often called female clients he was trying to impress "love," but hearing him call _her_ that made her pulse quicken. They—the clients—ate his attention like it was the greatest food they'd ever tasted, and she always felt it was stupid because didn't they realise he was saying it just to soften them up? And now, here she was, the one he was calling _love_ , and she was bathing in the word as if her ears had not heard until then.

"Do I make you angry?" he husked in her ear, bending slightly so his words filled her.

"It was my cat," she mumbled, most likely incoherently. "She stepped on my computer and sent the email."

Caroline wanted to say she felt uncomfortable. That she wanted him to step away from her, or else she would scream. But she wasn't uncomfortable. Well, she was. Her clothes had become restricting and she felt the heat of a thousand suns searing her. Her lips ached, her thighs were tingling. And, if anything, she wanted him _closer_ to her, not further away.

His soft whisperings against her skin were reminding her how very long it had been since another man had kissed her, touched her, and it was doing funny things to her head.

She recalled loosely as Klaus let out a low chuckle how Bonnie had commented one day that there seemed to be a lot of pent up sexual tension between her and Klaus, but she'd easily laughed it off. Because he was her boss. He wasn't _allowed_ to be attracted her. Plus, he didn't like her. And she didn't like him.

Bonnie then had to go on to say that you didn't need to like someone to have the strong, overwhelming desire to fuck their brains out.

Maybe her best friend had been right. There was no doubt in her hormone-ridden mind that she was fiercely turned on. And judging by the shallowness of Klaus's breaths, and the flush of his skin, that he too was a little more than excited.

But she didn't do this. She was smart. Smart people didn't get turned on by their boss. It was how they lost their jobs. Now that she was fairly sure he wasn't going to fire her over the email, she had a feeling sleeping with him was going to do her no favours.

Her last fling ended horribly, with her in tears and the man-boy running off with Caroline 5.0. And Caroline was positive Klaus was not looking for a long-term relationship. Everything about him screamed Commitment-Phobe.

She needed to get out of there.

Caroline blinked firmly once and finally lifted her head, managing to not sigh at the beauty that was Klaus Michaelson's face, and hardened her stare. "I should go," she said, extracting herself from against the seat.

She turned to leave, to do exactly as she said she would, but Klaus reached out suddenly and grabbed her forearm. Caroline was whipped back, her flesh sizzling where he touched her. He would leave marks on her skin, even though his grip was not tight. He was holding her like she imagined he would hold a small animal. Delicately, almost protectively.

That alone made her second-guess leaving.

She was used to seeing Klaus Michaelson dressed head-to-toe as the CEO of a huge company, as the man wired from birth to be calculating, cold, and cruel. She rarely saw him smile, and in the times that he did she was sure she was hallucinating. But she was looking at him in a new light. His blue eyes were dark, they always were, but there was a depth to them now.

"I've been watching you," he said, voice low and rumbling. It shook the floor beneath Caroline's feet. "For three years, I've seen you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked sharply. He still had his fingers twined around her arm, and she was still doing nothing to push him away. She still wasn't thinking clearly.

There was still a part of her screaming at her, begging her to _move closer_.

Klaus's lips twitched. They did that, she had noticed over the years, when he was pleased with himself, but didn't want to draw attention to the fact. Because he had caught her, because what girl didn't want to be told they'd been noticed?

"You think people don't see you, you think they ignore you, but I see you," he reiterated, in case she hadn't heard him the first time.

From anyone else, those words would have sent Caroline running out of the room, but Klaus said them with such conviction and truth, and his voice was so smooth and lilted, and who before had ever claimed to "see" her—damn him, he was smart—that she opened her ears and hoped he would say more.

"You hate me," she said softly, her throat tightening, legs wobbling. "You've said on multiple occasions that you wish you could fire me."

The reminder that they were in the middle of Klaus's office, with the Richmond skyline—not that it was very appealing—behind them, darkening, burst in Caroline's mind. The janitors would be there soon to clean up the messes they had made earlier in the day. They could be caught, and reported, and fired. No, _she_ would be fired. He was the son of the company's owner.

Klaus inched forward, releasing her arm and bringing that same hand up to caress her cheek in a way no man ever had done before. Her eyes closed on instinct, her other senses taking over. She could feel in the bottom of her stomach every part of her face he touched with his calloused fingers.

Did she really care that this was a bad idea anymore? A small bit of her brain was trying to tell her to pack her things for the night and leave. She was, after all, known for falling hard for guys that were unavailable. But most of her was done pretending that for the past three years she hasn't wanted to jump her boss's bones.

Paula Abdul said it best, opposites attract. Klaus Michaelson was mean, to put it simply. She was gentle and kind. In him, she saw something so inviting, so tempting. She had never been with the "bad boy" before. Maybe it was time to try one out.

"There's a fine line between love and hate," he said, causing her eyes to fly open. He had leaned down while her eyes had been shut, his forehead almost resting upon hers. "I like riling you up. Seeing you react when I shout at you. I play games with you, Caroline," he said throatily, like he couldn't breathe being this close to her.

He had never called her by her first name before, and she was slightly embarrassed that hearing him say _Caroline_ in his sexy British accent increased the wetness between her thighs.

Caroline had been raised by two very strong people. One of them was gone, but the other still told her how worthy she was of attention, of love. Of great things.

Klaus, perhaps, was one of those great things.

She was beyond the point of turning around now. There was nowhere to go but forward.

"That email . . . it was so _hot_ ," Klaus was saying, firmly placing his hands at the base of her spine. He pulled her to him, and she gasped and dug her fingernails into Klaus's biceps when their bellies met. Something rigid nudged her below the bellybutton, sending rivulets of Holy-Fuck-I-Want-You-Now through Caroline's bloodstream. "I've been hard all day thinking about it."

That would explain the thing poking her stomach.

"Do you really despise me that much?" he growled.

Caroline was about to answer, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was going to _say_ , but Klaus had obviously had decided the conversation needed to end. Lowering his head the final centimetre, Klaus captured Caroline's lips in a soul-sucking, dizzying kiss. Panting into her mouth, he pushed her back until she slammed into the glass wall outlining his office and ran his hands up and down her sides until she was shivering and covered in goosebumps.

"Tell me you don't want this," he demanded, breaking away. His pupils had turned his eyes into the puddles of black found inside of ink pots. There was a feral gleam in their midnight hue that twisted her insides. He was giving her an out, but she could not imagine pushing him away. Not now.

"I want this," she said, grasping his neck. She scratched at his skin. "I want this."

Klaus groaned, he roared, before kissing her again, claiming her lips as his own. She was going to be swollen and lifeless by the end of this, and she couldn't wait.

Gripping her chin, Klaus tilted her head to the side. Her cheek sat against the cool glass wall, his breath billowed against the shell of her ear. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?" he asked, placing his other hand on her hip and dragging his fingers down her skirt. "How long I've waited for the moment I could have you?"

She knew he didn't expect her to reply. He probably didn't want her to reply, and it wasn't as if she _could_ judging by how utterly breathless she was. His hand had reached the hem of her skirt and he had started lifting the fabric, his gloriously manicured fingernails scraping her skin. But his words made her think. How long _had_ he wanted her?

"Ever since I saw you walking out of your first interview, wearing that tight yellow dress," he rasped, just as he reached the apex of her thighs.

Caroline cried out, her fingers knotting in his hair. She pulled as he stroked her, coaxing more gasps and moans from her lips.

He was setting her ablaze. Dousing her in lighter fluid and throwing a match over her soaked body.

"I've wanted you so badly ever since. In here, in this office. Every day I've had to watch you walk into work, and every night I've had to watch you leave. You always look so bored," he said, twirling the tips of his large fingers over the small nub so many men believed didn't exist. She could barely stand upright anymore. He let go of her chin and said against her lips, "Let me teach you how to have fun."

Maybe it was because she hadn't been with someone in over a year, forced to use her own hand to find some semblance of relief, or maybe Klaus Michaelson was really just that good, but whatever it was, less than three minutes into his ministrations Caroline was biting hard on her lip, her climax running into her faster and more powerfully than she had expected it to.

Klaus gave her no time to recover. He was kissing her again, consuming her, undressing her, before she had stopped vibrating.

Shoes and clothes littered the floor, a mix of collared shirts and slacks and blues and blacks and whites. She fumbled with his belt buckle. He gave up on unbuttoning her shirt and tore it over her head with only half of the buttons released from their prison.

She came to the conclusion as Klaus pulled a condom out of his front pocket, because of course he was the type of guy that had a condom ready in his pocket, that she had always wanted this. Bonnie had been right.

Caroline suppressed her feelings often enough. It didn't surprise her that she had long ago pushed down the urge to sleep with her sexy-as-fuck boss.

Wrapping her small hands around Klaus's girth, Caroline smiled a little as he gasped and fell forward. She released one hand and held it open for Klaus to give her the condom.

"Evil woman," he said huskily, dropping the foil packet in her hand.

Deftly, Caroline tore at the wrapper and rolled the condom over Klaus, enjoying the long hiss he let out between his teeth.

And then he was ready, and she was more than ready.

Klaus secured their lips together, his warm tongue dipping inside of her mouth. He tasted like heaven. He tasted like her saving grace.

Clutching her thighs, Klaus lifted her, Caroline quickly getting the message and wrapping her legs around his waist. He brought them to his desk, setting Caroline down on top of it.

This was it. The beginning of something neither would be powerful enough to stop. Womaniser or not, she had the distinct feeling Klaus was rather caught up in her web. How else would he explain _seeing her_ for three years?

They both groaned when Klaus entered her, sheathing himself until their hips met. Caroline flung her arms around him, holding tight as the throbbing pain of intrusion ebbed and she was able to loosen her hold on his shoulders, leaning back and telling him it was okay, he could move now.

So he did. He moved. Slowly, languidly, as if he could not believe he was here, inside of her, and to combat the disbelief he had to slide in and out carefully, in case going to fast would cause her to disappear.

Their breathless pants filled the room, fogging the windows, sending rivulets of sweat down their faces, their backs.

They were chasing something together. Whether it was an end or a beginning, Caroline couldn't tell.

"God, fuck," Klaus breathed when Caroline started meeting his thrusts by lifting her hips off of the desk.

She smiled in success, finding that scar on his nose, his eyes. He met her gaze, looking at her like she was the real kind of beautiful. Like he wanted to paint her. And maybe he would go home tonight, the image of her naked, sweating, writhing beneath him in his head, and maybe he would grab his paintbrush and a canvas and put her down. Capture her. Forever.

 **.1.**

Klaus pulled out of her, and there was a slick pop that hurt Caroline's ears. She was still shivering, the vestiges of her second, third, fourth orgasm rattling her bones. He was still jerking too, she could tell even if he was trying hopelessly to hide it.

Pressing his forehead against hers, Klaus laughed. A youthful, carefree laugh.

She was a lucky girl.

"What?" she asked when he calmed down.

Klaus shook his head, their sweat mingling. He leaned back and got a good look at her. She was still caught in the haze of sex, but she knew he was appraising his handy work. She was pink all over. Dripping on to his floor. Surprisingly, she didn't feel embarrassed.

"How many women do you think I've slept with?"

Caroline blinked, confused. Okay, now she felt kind of embarrassed. And a little mad. Hopping off of the desk in an attempt to pick up her clothes and run away, Caroline wobbled and ended up falling into Klaus instead.

"Whoa, whoa," he said, righting her. He smiled down at her, caressing her cheek again. "I'm just curious."

Caroline jerked her neck, frowning. Klaus seemed to get the hint and dropped his hand. "Well, that's a really fucking weird thing to be curious about."

"It's not that strange. There are a lot of rumours in this building, and many of them are about me. About how many women I've had. Which ones have you heard?"

This night was already weird. Did he have to make it even weirder by bringing this up? She didn't want to think about how many other girls he'd fucked.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, thinking it was more than a reasonable question.

"Because I wouldn't want you to think I slept with you just now simply so I could add another notch to my bedpost," he explained.

"Oh."

Caroline thought for a moment. There were definitely a lot of different numbers. Some drifting into the two-digit realm, others going above and beyond three-digits.

"I've heard a few," she said eventually. "Which one's right?"

They were still naked, but somehow it was fitting. What better time to spill your secrets when you were already so exposed?

"Eight," he said, resolute. He was staring at her like he was begging her to believe him. "Well, I guess nine. Now."

Caroline raised her eyebrows. That number was definitely lower than what she had been expecting. "Eight?" she asked. Then—"Nine, I mean," she corrected quietly, sure she was transforming into a tomato right before Klaus's eyes.

Bending over to pick up his blazer and boxer briefs, Klaus walked over to Caroline and placed the jacket around her shoulders before putting his pants on after he discarded the used condom. "I flirt," he explained. "It's part of the job. The women I work with enjoy attention, and I give it to them. But it's all manipulation. I do it to get what I want, which might sound cruel, but it's the way my father taught me. I would never sleep with a client. It's completely unethical."

"And sleeping with your employee is very ethical," Caroline teased.

Klaus laughed in response, rubbing his hands up and down her clothed arms. "Very ethical, yes," he agreed. "I am a nasty man, that much is true. I enjoy getting what I want."

Yeah, he did like getting what he wanted. She was a prime example of that.

"You've always been different, though. Which is something I can't explain. Not yet, anyway. I wasn't lying when I said I saw you. I do see you," he said thickly.

Butterflies exploded in Caroline's stomach. Wings grazed her insides. "I see you too," she said. And she did. She saw behind that bullshit wall. Saw more than the CEO. She saw the art lover, the man who walked protectively behind her every night to ensure she got to her car safely.

Klaus smiled wide, showing off dimples Caroline had never seen before. There was no end to the attractiveness of this man. "So you don't think I'm . . . what was it you called me? A fuckboy, or something of that nature?"

Caroline clapped her hands over her face. "I totally forgot I sent you that email," she said, words muffled by her hands.

Taking both of her wrists in one of his large hands, Klaus gently tugged her hands away from her face. "It wasn't you, though, was it?"

Confusion settled over Caroline for the billionth time that night, but it quickly dawned on her what her boss meant. "I still wrote it, even if Snowball was the one to send it."

"I was very shocked when I got that message. I hadn't pinned you as the type to wish death upon other people," Klaus said with a smile.

"Ha. Ha," Caroline huffed sarcastically. Was this the same dominating CEO from just a couple of hours ago? Perhaps this was his after-sex glow. "You're hilarious."

Klaus took Caroline's hand, ignoring her jab, and led her out of his office to the sofa leaning against the wall by Caroline's desk. Thankfully, Klaus's jacket covered her ass and she sat down without worrying about sanitation.

They sat in silence for a little while. Exhaustion was settling over Caroline. She had forgotten how much energy sex took out of you.

"I am an asshole," Klaus said, jolting Caroline. His voice sounded so loud in the empty office. "You definitely got that right."

Caroline felt compelled to say, "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm always in favour of honesty, so I should really be thanking you," he said, placing his arm over her shoulders. He tucked his fingers beneath his jacket and ran his finger along her collarbone.

"You should be thanking Snowball," Caroline mewled, Klaus's fingers travelling down toward her breast.

Klaus turned his head and kissed her jaw. "You know, I have to admit," he said, gripping her breast in his hand. "I've always been more of a dog person."

"How can you not like cats?" Caroline panted as Klaus tweaked her nipple.

Klaus moved to kiss her, swallowing her cry of pleasure. "I may or may not have been attacked by one when I was a child."

Breaking away, Caroline put her hands on Klaus's shoulders. He paused and let go of her breast. "A cat attacked you?" she asked, trying her best not to laugh.

"Yes," Klaus said emphatically. He pointed to his nose, to the mark Caroline always found herself staring at when he was in front of her. "It left a scar!"

"Oh, you poor thing!" Caroline cried. Unable to help herself, she burst into a fit of giggles. "You poor, poor thing."

Klaus, ironically, pounced on Caroline much the same way a feline pounced on its prey, moving her so she sat on top of him. His erection pressed firmly against the outline of her sex, and she immediately stopped laughing.

"It's not funny," he said in his CEO voice.

Caroline nodded, serious. "It's not funny," she repeated, scraping her fingernails through the spatter of blond hair on his chest.

Klaus shivered beneath her. "I think it's time for round two, don't you agree?"

"Yes," Caroline gasped. Though it was more like round ten for her. "Definitely."

For the moment, she decided, she could look past his dislike of cats.

Of course, he would eventually come to realise that without Snowball, they probably would never have gotten together. So maybe cats weren't that bad after all.

* * *

 **A/N 2:** How was that for you?

It's obviously open for a sequel of sorts, which I have in mind, but I don't know if I'll ever get around to writing it.

I hope you enjoyed it! And that the sex scenes weren't too awkward.

Thank you for reading!

LoveIsATemple


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